


The Seventh Year

by PoeDameronsJacket



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, its not gay yet but be patient
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:27:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23550787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoeDameronsJacket/pseuds/PoeDameronsJacket
Summary: After the war, Harry starts Auror training while Ginny goes back for her seventh year at Hogwarts. Ginny misses Harry, but she gets distracted before long...
Relationships: Harry Potter & Ginny Weasley
Kudos: 1





	The Seventh Year

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at writing fic, I'm honestly surprised I've made it this far. I mostly wrote this because I needed to know more about what Ginny was like when Harry's not around.
> 
> Please leave Kudos or Comments if you like it so I can have motivation to continue!

After the war – after Voldemort’s body lay cold beneath an unmarked grave, and endless hours of grief-filled funerals for loved ones were finally, blessedly over – Harry sought out Ginny.

He’d been officially staying at the Weasleys since that fateful day, but had avoided the Burrow as much as possible. While he knew he was an honourary member of the Weasley family – and was heavy with grief himself – he still felt intrusive living amongst the mourning Weasleys, especially with the endless stream of owls knocking on windows at all hours of the day, and the relentless _Prophet_ journalists apparating into the front lawn or flying up to the fourth floor window in an attempt to catch a glimpse at the Saviour of the Wizarding World.

While he desperately wanted to vanish to Shell Cottage, or the Forest of Dean, or anywhere where they couldn’t find him, he didn’t. For the first time in his life, he voluntarily engaged with the Ministry and the _Prophet_. Kingsley had been urgently instated as Prime Minister as soon as Voldemort’s regime had fallen – so that made the endless hearings and briefings with the Ministry far less painful than they could have been, had it been under earlier administrations.

Far worse were the few interviews Harry took with the _Prophet_. While he would prefer to solely speak to the _Quibbler_ or even _Witch Weekly_ , for that matter, he resigned himself to the fact that the _Daily Prophet_ had by far the largest readership in Wizarding Britain, and he _needed_ them to get the story straight. Of course, he spared the details. The public didn’t need to know every nuance of Dumbledore’s schemes – or of Voldemort’s, for that matter – plus, he was confident Hermione would someday write an exhaustive volume on the whole affair that would be taught by Professor Binns to generations of uninterested students to come.

But still, he _needed_ them to know the most important facts. He needed them to know what Snape had sacrificed in his decades-long attempt to atone for his sins. He needed them to understand how important it was that Lily’s magic flowed through his veins. And he desperately needed them to understand how the resistance had won – how Dumbledore’s Army and the Order of the Phoenix put their lives on the line to fight for the rebirth of a just society from the flames of hate.

So Harry was busy. When he wasn’t staying at a rented flat in London (he wasn’t quite ready to revisit Grimmauld Place), he was avoiding owls bringing him letter after letter of gratitude from the wizarding world.

_Mr. Potter,_

_To think, you are only 17 years old. When I was 17, my bravest feat was facing Peeves on my way back from the loo. And there you’ve gone, saving the whole bloody world. I wanted you to know that my wife is a Muggle, making my daughter a Half-Blood. We’d been on the run since last summer – barely surviving, losing all hope that the world would ever make sense again. And then suddenly, overnight, BOOM. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is gone, slain by your hand with the flick of a wand, and we’re back in our home in Devonshire, more grateful than ever to be alive._

_Thanks to you._

_Thank you thank you thank you thank you._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Alabaster Todd_

He couldn’t stand it. Every letter was the same. Stories of suffering, and gratitude for a sudden and simple defeat of Voldemort using his unique might and skill. He’d rather de-gnome the garden all day than read another letter.

And so it happened that, through all the mourning, and meetings, and letter-avoidance, Harry and Ginny hadn’t had much time together. They’d held hands at wakes, played solemn rounds of Gobstones, and even competed in a half-assed Quidditch match with the rest of the Weasleys before the absence of Fred shooting bludgers at their noses was too much to handle and the game was called off without a point being scored. But they hadn’t really _talked_.

One day, in early August, an owl tapped on the kitchen window when Harry and the Weasleys were sitting down for breakfast. Harry groaned as George opened the window and the owl landed gracefully in the middle of the table. “Not today,” he mumbled as he put out his hand to untie the envelop from his leg. The owl snapped at his fingers and hopped towards Ginny, who laughed and reached out for the letter.

“Not everything’s about _you_ ,” she said, grinning at Harry. “Seventh year supply list,” she explained as she pulled out the letter and began reading.

Of course, Harry knew Ginny was going back to school, but this was the first time he’d really thought about what that meant.

***********

Ginny was flying laps around the field near the Burrow when she saw Harry walking slowly towards her, hands in his pocket, a serious look on his face. As he approached, she pulled a Wronski Feint, flying towards Harry at full speed and pulling up a foot away, pausing to hover in front of him, laughing at the startled look on his face.

“Can we talk?” he said.

“What took you so long?” she replied, hopping off the broom and throwing herself down on the ground, arms behind her head, eyes closed, soaking in the sun. She felt Harry sitting down next to her and opened one eye to look at him. “I love you, you know?” she said.

Harry bit his lip, “Ginny…”.

“Oh, don’t look so worried. I love you. But I’m going back to Hogwarts and you’re going to start Auror training, not to mention your daily meetings with Kingsley while they sort out the mess Mouldy Voldy left behind –”

She was interrupted by Harry grabbing her head, pulling her towards him and kissing her hard on the lips. She opened her mouth, kissing furiously back, as she sat up, pushed him down and straddled him in one motion. She had kept her distance all summer, partially through her own grief for her brother, and Tonks, and all the others, and partially because she was waiting for him. But now he was here, and she knew it wouldn’t be for long, so she kissed him into the ground, biting his lip hard, determined to make sure he didn’t forget the feel of her mouth on his when he was gone.

They stayed that way for a blissful eternity, until the sky began to turn shades of pink and orange. Lying side by side, holding hands, staring at the heavens, Harry finally spoke the words.

“It’s not our time yet.”

Rolling onto her side to look at him, she smiled sadly and said, “I know. I want to be a kid for one more year. I want to make up for last year, I want to go to school and have my biggest worry be passing my Potions N.E.W.T. And I don’t want you to feel that you owe me anything. You’re an adult now, you’re the goddamn Saviour of the Wizarding World. You should be off, fucking your hot young Auror teacher or whoever, and not worrying about your kid girlfriend pulling pranks at Hogwarts. I’m okay with that. I can wait. Let’s wait. Let’s grow up. Let’s fuck around.”

Harry looked at her, eyes attempting to pry into her soul, “I keep making you wait—”

“Shut up. I’m not waiting. I’m going to live my fucking life, win a Quidditch Cup, and when I’m done – and when you’re looking all grown in your Auror’s uniform – we’ll finally be ready. I won’t forget you, I promise.” She winked, and kissed him on his nose.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

It was going to be a good year.


End file.
